


Under The Cherry Tree

by zelliebear



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Suicide, dark themes, mental health, mentions of self harm, pay attention to these tags please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 06:19:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11526312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zelliebear/pseuds/zelliebear
Summary: “Why are you so quiet?” He asks, not even looking at Louis, just staring at the sky, letting his eyes slip closed.“I’m sad.” Louis states. It’s a fact. He’s always sad.





	Under The Cherry Tree

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this when I was going through a really dark time. I need everyone to please pay attention to the tags above, I do not want to trigger anybody.
> 
> This fic was written for my creative writing class, and I loved it so much that I decided to change the character names and post it on here. It's not a light thing, it's heavy, but I'm proud of this and I hope you guys agree with me when I say its tragically beautiful? Weird. Haha.
> 
> Thanks for reading this, and again, be safe.

They meet under a cherry tree.

Its Louis’ favorite spot to go, secluded so he can purposefully trap himself in his mind without any interruptions. It’s not healthy they say, but he’s a fucking mess sometimes.

Harry sits next to him, silent and not a trace of emotion on his face and it’s a little unsettling, but at the same time it puts Louis at ease.

“Why are you so quiet?” He asks, not even looking at Louis, just staring at the sky, letting his eyes slip closed.

“I’m sad.” Louis states. It’s a fact. He’s always sad.

Harry just nods, finally looking at the boy next to him. “Makes sense.” Is all he says, and that’s that. Nothing else can be said, and it’s obvious because Louis has looked far gone, so far gone that he knows he can’t be saved.

He doesn’t need pity, and it’s strange the boy next to him is so calm about it, so accepting. He doesn’t try to ask why, doesn’t apologize or anything. He just validates his feelings and some may think he doesn’t care, but to Louis it screams that he cares, enough to let things go.

He’s just a thing, and he needs to be let go. But he’s so fucking lazy and that laziness allows him to stay here in this shit hole, always trapped in his mind.

But under this cherry tree, things look slightly better for a moment.

It’s temporary.

* * *

 

“I think I’m dead.” Louis states under the cherry tree, Harry next to him once again. They meet up a lot now. They don’t speak much, just sit in silence and enjoy the smell of fresh cherries and sunshine. It’s like a backdrop in a movie, it looks real but it’s not.

Not really, because in Louis’ head, this can’t be real. He isn’t allowed to see things in a beautiful way, not when he sees everything in gray. All except here, he sees everything in such bright colors it could blind him.

Harry leans over to pinch him, making Louis squeak and frown at him, “You feel sadness and pain. That’s a sign of being alive, barely anyway.” He smiles at him after his sentence and Louis just nods, letting the “barely” play on replay in his head.

Barely barely barely. You’re barely alive.

“Can you really call that being alive? I think it’s just existing.” Louis says quietly, letting out a sigh as he looks down at his marked up arms. Marked up so badly because sometimes he wants to feel, and most of the time he doesn’t even feel when that blade goes down his skin and it upsets him.

He dies every day. Metaphorically anyway. He kills himself on a daily basis in his mind. He sometimes does it messy, sometimes quietly and sometimes in the middle of a busy shopping center so everyone can stop and stare and remember him as “the boy who went crazy and offed himself in the middle of a shopping center.”

At least he’d be remembered that way. Harry will move on, forget him, and never come back to this cherry tree again because there’s nothing here for him anymore.

Now that’s cocky, thinking that he actually is the reason he’s here.

No one is here for him and never will be. Not really.

“Hug me?” Louis asks suddenly.

Harry does.

* * *

 

“I want to disintegrate into nothing.” Louis states one day under the cherry tree.

Harry nods, “I understand. That’s very poetic, but not really possible. If you were to die, I think you’d do it quietly, personally. Maybe when you die, I’ll get your ashes and make you believe you disengrated into nothing as I spread your ashes on the sea so you can be one with the shoreline.”

Louis just looks at him as she speaks. Harry has such beautiful brown curls, always being illuminated by the sunlight making him look like he’s glowing. Louis has a thought in his mind that if he were to stare at Harry in the dark, under this tree, would he look like he’s one with the stars? What if he exploded millions of years ago and the reason Louis can see him is because it hasn’t reached here yet.

A star boy. A reflection of what he once was.

Harry is sad just like him, yet Louis stopped glowing years ago. How do sad boys keep their glow? He may never be alive long enough to know.

“And you call me poetic. At least that sounds better than getting eaten by maggots. And quietly you say? I’m not sure. Maybe I’ll shoot myself in a bathtub, let my brains paint the walls red. Let my family find me, maybe I’d haunt the place long enough to see how relieved they’d be.”

Harry laughs. He’s always found sick shit funny. Some would call him a little psychotic.

Not Louis, he just calls him Harry the Star Boy.

“Too messy. I feel like you’re the type that doesn’t want to be remembered, just vanish like you never existed. Blood on a white bath tub would leave a stain. They’d have to replace it, but just having a new one would remind them. Maybe hang yourself? Maybe hang yourself here, under this cherry tree. I’d find you; maybe I’d kiss your forehead, maybe put you in something and let your body float down river like they used to do.” Harry says, picking at the grass below him.

“Someone would find me that way. I want to vanish, remember?”

“I wouldn’t let anyone find you…” Harry states, leaning over and kissing Louis’ forehead so lightly that he barely could feel it.

But maybe he could live just one more day.

“Stay alive for me a little bit longer.” Harry says.

Louis nods. Anything for the star boy.

* * *

 

Today is a bad day for Louis. He has days where he is so fucking sad that he can’t take it anymore. It feels like he’s suffocating on the air that’s meant to keep him alive and he wishes more than anything it’d just kill him, betray him and just let him die instead.

But it doesn’t, it just keeps torturing him.

He goes back to the cherry tree and cries, and of course Harry is there. He’s always there.

“I’ll be happy enough for the both of us.” He whispers as he holds Louis close to him, playing with his hair in hopes of calming down the tide that is Louis’ tears.

Louis just smiles bitterly, “Harry, there’s no one in the world that could be happy enough for the both of us.”

Harry nods like he usually does, validating. Always validating.

“But I’m not sad enough to where I want to die. You on the other hand, I’m not sure how much longer you can hold on.”

The silence that settles is eerie, the perfect setting for it to be said.

“I love you, Harry.” He whispers it to the wind, wishing that it would carry the words away with it but instead it rushes right into Harry’s ears, cradling it softly and making sure he heard it loud and clear because it’d never be said again.

Harry understands this, “I love you too, Louis.”

* * *

 

They kiss for the first time under the cherry tree, this time it’s close to dusk. They never stay out late enough for the day to turn into night, so they get up to leave. The moment those lips leave Harry’s, the feeling of dread comes back and he wonders if he can hold on until tomorrow.

Tomorrow he will see Harry again and it’ll be better again.

As he walks home, he screams at whatever force is there, whatever being that exists that listens to prayers or anything related and he screams so loud for anyone to hear,

“Please let me live until tomorrow. Please hold on to that rope just a little fucking longer. Don’t let me let go of it. Don’t let me fall and crumble to my death. Not yet.”

No one is listening. No one ever is.

* * *

 

“Harry doesn’t exist” they say, “You’re just imagining him. He doesn’t exist. You’re not okay, Louis.” They say.

He’s running, running so fast that the screams for his name fade into background noise and eventually into nothing.

He’s crying so hard that it’s burning his lungs, making them feel like they are going to combust and kill him right here.

But he can’t die yet, he needs to see Harry.

He exists.

He knows he’s sad, he knows he’s not okay, but he can’t imagine kissing Harry. He can’t imagine up a reason to live. It doesn’t work like that.

Harry exists. He’s screaming it now, screaming and screaming and people are staring at the crazy boy but he doesn’t care.

He needs to see Harry.

He gets to the cherry tree. It’s almost time for the sun to set and there’s not a trace of Harry. He’s been here every day, been here to listen and not talk most days.

He was always here and he’s not.

Louis just cries, he cries so hard its blurring his vision.

“Harry you’re supposed to be here.”

He hears screaming in the distance. It’s his name, being called over and over. He knows it’s not his parents. They don’t care enough for the sick son. No one does. The one screaming for him is the one who gets paid to care. He doesn’t want a death on his hands.

He decides to do it. It’s a quick decision, but in his mind he feels like it’s the right time.

He does it slowly, but fast enough that no one will find him in time. He goes out like he and Harry decided on. He’s hanging there, from the cherry tree he met Harry at.

Harry will find his body, kiss his forehead and let his body float on a river. He promised he wouldn’t let anyone find his body. He will vanish, just like he wanted.

I love you I love you I love you I love you.

He exists.

It’s a mantra in his mind as he hangs there, slowly dying, a smile on his face like nothing matters anymore.

And nothing does. Not anymore.

The night falls dark, as only the trees were left to be seen from the moons light, and he was free.

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter- haroldsaidlou  
> Snapchat- TalesofKayle


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